


Waiting Game

by scandalsavage



Series: Ra'sJay Ficlets [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, I have no idea, I'm not even sure this qualifies for a "Mature" rating?, M/M, Maybe "Teen"?, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-10-30 20:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17835644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Ra's al Ghul has spent six centuries with a name on his wrist. When Batman's new Boy Wonder's name matches... well, fate may be a bitch for making him wait so long but she certainly knows how to deliver.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Ask:
> 
> 1/2 So your soulmate fic got me thinking (It's fucking awesome by the way!) But what about the soulmate AU where you have you mates name on your wrist? Ra's has had JASON TODD printed on his wrist for centuries and has long stopped believing he'll find him when lo and behold his dear detective adopts a boy with the same name. Jason's always wondered about this Ra's al ghul guy even after he finds his file on the bat computer...Jason never dying and just creepy courting form Ra's. 
> 
> 2/2 With Bruce like "NOT MY BABY!" Joker still gets ahold of Jason but Ra's takes rather strong offense. Bruce having to steal his son back after Ra's ninja deal with Joker. Of course by then Ra's has served Jason Joker's severed head on a silver platter and is happily running his hands over his mate's nude body. The boy's to injured for anything now and Ra's is well aware the Bat's on his way. It'll have to be a slow courtship luring the boy to his side. They have forever after all.

Ra’s al Ghul has been watching and waiting for years now. There’s no need to rush, he has all the time in the world and the boy was still a child.

He keeps his distance, deliberately staying out of Batman and Robin’s way.

When Bruce Wayne adopted a new young ward with black hair and blue eyes, Ra’s had scoffed at what was obviously either narcissism or a predilection that the Demon’s Head would never have suspected but would certainly make the Dark Knight even more fascinating.

Then he had learned the boy’s name and knew he would have to play things differently with this one than he had with the first. So he had been quiet these four years while the Detective took care of the child’s fundamentals training. Waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity while the boy grew into a strong, intelligent young man.

Ra’s rubs at the centuries old mark on his left wrist absentmindedly while he and his men keep a close watch on the warehouse. This is the chance for which he’s been waiting. Batman is too far away to help and if Ra’s was a colder man, or if the boy were any other, he would allow the monstrous clown, product of Bruce’s own misguided ideology, to teach the man a lesson. A lesson about leaving one’s enemies alive. A lesson about taking half trained children into war.

The child has been betrayed by his own blood, a woman the Detective doesn’t know and should never have trusted with something so precious. Ra’s watches the boy’s birth mother smoke a cigarette, unperturbed, as the brightly colored beast beats her son bloody with a hefty length of cold metal. He can hear the sharp snap of bones through the wet thud of torn flesh and muscle from beyond his perch over the skylight.

Ra’s presses his thumb into name that has been printed on his wrist for over 600 years once more and gives a brief nod to his men. They’ve waited long enough. Jason Todd knows he’s dead, knows his adoptive father won’t arrive in time to save him. Knows that there is no hope.

His men have their orders. They crash through the windows and doors, easily killing the Joker’s men and subduing the ‘man’ himself. Ra’s spares a moment to touch the boy’s face gingerly, softly sweeping bloody locks of hair out of his eyes before he passes out. Then he turns to the woman held between two of his men. She looks confused.

“You deserve a much longer, more tortuous death than the merciful end you will soon meet by my blade,” he says icily, “But you brought him into the world when I had long since lost all hope of finding the one whose name I bear on my flesh. And for that alone, I am grateful enough to end your otherwise worthless existence quickly.”

He enjoys the terror in the wicked woman’s eyes when she glances to his wrist and sees her son’s name. She doesn’t have all the context, she doesn’t know who Ra’s is or what it means that the broken little bird is his soulmate, but she knows he’s formidable. Knows she has shown her character.

To her very minimal credit, she doesn’t beg. Doesn’t plead for her life. Just bows her head in acceptance. Ra’s obliges.

With a single swift stroke, he separates her head from her shoulders.

“Come,” he barks at his men, “he needs immediate medical attention. We have already lingered too long.”

The Joker’s manic laugh bounces around his mind until they reach the transport and are able to sedate him.

 

* * *

 

Jason blinks his eyes open to a room he’s never seen before. The walls are stone and there’s an open balcony beyond the foot of the bed to the left. Sheer, silken curtains of gold flutter in the evening breeze that wafts past the entrance.

The white linen sheets he’s carefully tucked into are soft and decadent. The down pillows and comfy mattress cradle his stiff, sore body, and it’s like what he imagines lying on a cloud to be like.

Jason tries to sit up only to hiss in excruciating pain at the slight twitch of his muscles.

 _Joker_ , he thinks angrily. He’s lucky to be alive.

Actually… he’s _surprised_ to be alive.

If he doesn’t move, the pain remains a low, dull, throbbing ache pulsing through his body. It doesn’t hurt too badly. Except when he looks down,  _sees_ the marks of his torture, the red seeping through the numerous white bandages wrapped around his body.

The door to his right opens abruptly, causing him to flinch involuntarily. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and grinds his teeth together to stop himself from crying out in pain. When he opens them again, a tall, lean man is gazing at him from the foot of the bed.

A very familiar man.

Jason swallows and stares back, the mark on his wrist burning. He’s never met Ra’s al Ghul before. But after finding his file in the Batcomuter… he has spent a lot of time looking at the man’s face, pouring over his profile, learning everything he can about him.

About his soulmate.

One corner of the older man’s mouth is turned up in a surprisingly kind smile. The silence is so thick and heavy between them, Jason feels like he could reach out and touch the air. It is very clear that they both know.

He doesn’t dare speak. Couldn’t if he wanted to. He wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“How are you feeling?” Ra’s al Ghul asks gently.

His voice is deep and melodious, his words accented and confidently spoken. The smooth, soft sound makes Jason’s mouth go a little dry and he licks his lips in vain before answering.

“I’m… sore,” he mutters finally, tearing his eyes away from the villain’s to hide the fact that he’s obviously trying to underplay how terrible everything feels.

Ra’s tilts his head before allowing his eyes to scan down Jason’s body, smile widening when Jason shivers under his attention. Then he moves around the bed to sit near Jason’s hip and reaches for the nightstand to retrieve a bowl of green, watery, liquid and a small stack of cloths.

Jason watches quietly as the Demon’s Head carefully peels away the bandages from several of his injuries. He’s surprised when the jagged edges of the gashes in his skin and the dark bruising he expects turn out to be much less… extreme than he’d thought. His wounds look half healed.

“As I am certain you are aware, the waters of the Lazarus pits have miraculous healing qualities,” Ra’s begins as he dips a cloth into the water and dabs at Jason’s wounds. He chuckles when Jason cringes at the words. He must know the things that Bruce suspects about the pits, about the madness that comes with continued use, because Ra’s cuts him off before he can protest. “I anticipated your hesitation. You have not been fully immersed. If you had, you would be completely healed already. The small amount I have used to save your life and limbs will have no effect on your mind, even if your mentor’s fears were founded.”

Ra’s smiles up at him conspiratorially, switching the dirtied cloth for a clean one and starting on another rip in his skin, “Incidentally, they are not founded.”

Jason stays quiet, watching awestruck, as his injuries heal and fade before his eyes. Not totally gone, but much better than they have any right to be after…

“How long have I been here?”

“Less than two days.”

“Two days? Batman… he’ll… he’ll be worried…” Jason searches the other man’s face for any idea of what his plans may be now. He knows Ra’s won’t concern himself with Bruce’s feelings. But he feels adrift, unable to get his bearings, he can’t get a read on his situation.

The assassin doesn’t answer for a long moment, while he finishes caring after Jason’s broken body. When he changed each dressing, he replaces the items on the side table and shifts so that he’s more directly facing where Jason is propped against a pile of pillows. Then Ra’s’s fingertips are grazing over Jason’s left hand, gently twisting until the soft underside of his wrist faces upwards.

The older man drags his thumb over the delicate script spelling out his own name, the touch setting fire to Jason’s every nerve. Finally, he turns piercing, unnaturally green eyes up to meet Jason’s blue ones.

“He scours the world searching for you,” Ra’s responds quietly, “Desperately seeking his lost son.”

Jason gulps, he can’t look away. He’s trapped by the intensity of those ancient eyes. Dual desires battle for priority in his mind. The need to find Bruce, to let him know he’s alright wars with the need to take this opportunity, to get to know his soulmate.

Once he returns to Bruce (if Ra’s allows him to return to Bruce), he may never get another chance.

“I have kept my distance these last several years,” Ra’s continues, as though he can read Jason’s mind, “To facilitate a sort of truce between myself and the Detective. So that one day, when I sought a meeting with you, he might be more inclined to agree. I have been alive for a very long time and as such, I am a very patient person. A few years while you grew into the deadly young man you were meant to be is a small fraction of my eternity, so I was content to wait.”

Ra’s gives his hand an affectionate squeeze before dragging his fingers up Jason’s bare arm to delicately palm his cheek. The familiar letters that spell his name flash on the golden skin just below his lips. “But I have also already waited a very long time. Centuries have come and gone while I slowly lost hope there would ever exist a ‘Jason Todd’. And so, upon discovering Wayne had adopted a boy with that name, I found myself once again hopeful for something I had come to believe I would never have. I have kept a close eye on you, unwilling to completely trust your well-being to anyone else. Even Bruce.”

Jason’s breath comes faster, chest moving up and down quickly, the more that voice speaks. Then Ra’s’s thumb slides over his lips, pulling on the lower one, just a little, just enough to show his teeth and make his eyes go wide with want.

“And it is a good thing I did so. Batman was never going to make it in time to prevent that maniac from murdering you. It was well after the building was destroyed by the Joker’s bomb that your mentor finally arrived.”

The direct reference to the event smacks across his consciousness like ice water.

“My—my mother… is she…”

A shadow passes over the Demon’s face, a darkness that, if Jason is honest with himself, frightens him a little.

“The incubator who brought you into the world only to later make a rather spectacular attempt to remove you from it, did not survive.”

“Did—did you… _kill_ her?”

Those green eyes bore into him. He feels like the seconds they stare at each other drag into infinity.

“No,” Ra’s says flatly, and Jason releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “But I will not say that I am disappointed with her fate.”

Ra’s al Ghul leans into his space. His breath catches again when the assassin pauses less than an inch from his face, searches for something, and smiles when Jason’s licks his lips.

Then they’re connected. Ra’s’s mouth is pressed to his and the man’s tongue tenderly and briefly dips between his teeth to touch his own.

Then he’s gone. But Jason can still feel the warm air of his soulmate’s breath ghosting across his lips.

A wicked smile meets his gaze when he opens his eyes.

“I have a gift for you,” Ra’s growls low and vicious. He glances down Jason’s body again, then his expression softens. “You still need a couple days to recover. When you are well, I have something for you.”

 

* * *

 

The bodies in the rubble were killed by swords before the building ever blew.

Bruce knew. Even before he found Sheila decapitated, Joker nowhere to be found. But he tore through every inch of the debris anyway.

Then he started tearing through every hideout and palace and stronghold of Ra’s al Ghul’s he could find.

He likes to think that if he’d known, if he’d seen the name on Jason’s wrist that first night they’d met, that Bruce wouldn’t have brought him home. Wouldn’t have taken him in, introduced him to Batman’s world. That he would have had the sense to help Jason less directly, from a distance. To hide him from the Demon who is meant to be his soulmate.

But Bruce knows it wouldn’t have changed anything. He knows himself well enough. He would have convinced himself that he could have kept Jason safer if he was close.

He hadn’t known though. Jason had lived with them for two months before Bruce had caught sight of the damning words.

Jason told him he had hidden it most of his life, after he searched the name and discovered it was a man’s name. He didn’t want the bullies in Crime Alley making fun of him.

And then, when he had come to the manor, started training as Robin, he had diligently done the homework Bruce had assigned. He had read up on Batman’s rogue’s gallery.

Found Ra’s al Ghul.

A name he would have never known if it weren’t for Bruce’s interference with his life.

When he confronted Jason after seeing the name, Jason had shyly admitted he didn’t tell Bruce because he was afraid. Didn’t know if his adoptive father would get rid of him, would hate him because his soulmate was one of his greatest adversaries.

Bruce had held him close and reassured that nothing could make him hate his child, nothing could take Jason away. But he had sat Jason down and had a long, frank conversation about how, soulmate or not, Ra’s al Ghul was a cruel, evil man. Jason had to understand, for his own safety, for their job, for their family… he could never be with Ra’s.

It had been easy. Too easy, in retrospect. Bruce had taken the League’s silence, Ra’s’s absence, for granted. Willing to take the win without the fight because it was so rare that he didn’t have to fight.

He should have known that Ra’s would find out. He should have looked into what he was doing, kept an eye on him. He should have seen that Ra’s was waiting in the shadows.

And now, not only did his son almost die due to his carelessness, but he’s been whisked away by a dangerous enemy who has a natural claim to the boy’s heart.

He destroys the third abandoned League of Assassins headquarters he searched in the last two days.

He _must_ find Jason. Before it’s too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to finish this one up.
> 
> [My tumblr](https://scandalsavagefanfic.tumblr.com/)

Ra’s stays by Jason’s side the whole time he heals. Which could have been completed before the boy woke, even without submerging him in the Pit. But Ra’s wants—needs—it to take time.

He needs to build a rapport, a foundation on which their fledgling relationship can grow.

Something that will keep the boy here when the Detective inevitably finds them.

Every move is deliberate. Ra’s sits, pressing his thumbs into the boy’s feet, drawing a shiver when he moves over a small, round scar, and withholds the anger that flares up every time he discovers a new mark that someone else thought they had the right to leave. Likely someone who was supposed to care for and protect his soulmate until he was of age.

He makes idle conversation, soaking up everything Jason tells him about his life. The teen gains confidence the more he speaks, encouraged by Ra’s’ interest.

Much of it he knew already. He had done what research he could, was aware of Jason’s low breeding, the failures of his parents.

But he’s unable to hold back a frown when the boy mentions he had lived on the streets of Gotham for several years. Or the way his frown turns into a scowl when Jason tells him he missed three years of school before Bruce took him in because of it.

“I… I made it up…” the teen says hesitantly, face falling when he registers Ra’s’ disappointment, “When I went back to school, I wasn’t even behind.”

That much was apparent. Ra’s knows Jason’s academic achievements. Which is why it never occurred to him that the boy missed so much of his education.

“A young man with a thirst for knowledge and the will and motivation to seek it is an increasingly rare thing in the world,” he responds, smiling kindly, “That you not only attempted to rectify the situation but exceeded any reasonable expectations speaks volumes of your intelligence, yes, but also of the type of person you are.”

The boy’s ears, cheeks, and throat flush an attractive rosy pink. “Which is…?”

Ra’s pauses his ministrations, looking up to meet an uncertain gaze.

“A force of nature,” he rumbles after a moment, “A young man who looks at something others call impossible, takes on the challenge, and doesn’t quit until he has vanquished it. A man capable of great things. One worthy of standing beside the Demon’s Head.”

Something flashes across Jason’s eyes. Something sharp and quick.

Whatever is coming next is a test. And that Jason would test _him_ , excites and amuses him.

“’Beside’ you?”

Clever child. “Do you believe I am a man who would suffer a soulmate who is below me?”

The boy keeps his eyes fixed on Ra’s’, watching every muscle twitch, if Ra’s had had any. It’s clear Jason is taken with him. But it is also clear that he is cautious and lacks much of the naivete of youth. This is a young man who will not be bullied or manipulated.

“You know I exceeded expectations at school because you’ve been watching me. You think that’s not a two-way street? Batman’s files on Ra’s al Ghul and the League are pretty… extensive. I know about you too.”

Ra’s raises his brows and rests his hand on Jason’s ankle. “Oh? And what do you think you know about me, child?”

The younger man’s nose scrunches up and his mouth curls downward at the moniker. Ra’s feels his own lips tick up. The little bird is… precious.

“You’re… an elitist.” Jason falters part way through, perhaps thinking better of outright offending one of the most powerful and deadly men in the world, soulmate or not. “You care about bloodlines and pedigree. You think some people have more value, that some are more worth saving than others. You live high above everyone else and think they’re beneath you…” he pauses again but doesn’t look away. Hasn’t looked away once. “I’m a gutter rat. I was born on the worst street, in the worst city, to some pretty shitty people. I don’t think you’d mind having me…” and _now_ he does glance away, blush rising as his long lashes fan across his cheeks, “having me… beneath you. But I’m not interested in being your bitch.”

If Ra’s were any other man, the quick reveal of Jason’s vivid, aquamarine eyes when they snapped back up may have stolen his breath.

“And I can’t help but wonder if you’re capable of a… a partnership. If you’re even capable of seeing me as an… equal. And not just a… subordinate.”

Ra’s grins and doesn’t turn away when a servant enters with a tray of food. Not until he has to rise and take it from him, before waving the man back out. He’s aware of Jason’s eyes following his every movement as he settles against the headboard next to the boy, handing him a deep, terra cotta plate.

“When I was young, during my first life, I tried to hide your name from my wife.” Ra’s smiles as Jason tears off a piece of the khobz, dips it into the tangia, and takes a tentative bite before using the bread to scoop the meat and broth into his mouth, ignoring the spoon the servant had brought, then continues. “A man’s name. Even now it would mean some ridicule but then it often meant much worse. I thought it would be easy to keep it from her. Our marriage began as one of mutual convenience. I didn’t want any distractions from my work, and she wanted autonomy, respect. But very soon, it became more. She was… intelligent, fierce, and fearless. We made an excellent team. It was only a matter of time before she saw. And accepted. It was my name on her skin after all, so even if she wasn’t meant for me, I was meant for her.”

He sighs at the memories. He’s never really spoken about this part of his life with anyone before. Talia knows some but nothing more than a scratch at the surface. Ignoring the food, Ra’s reaches for his glass of mint tea, feeling validated in his nostalgic choices for supper.

“At any rate, neither Sora nor I were of notable lineage. My concern for bloodlines is less about everyone else’s and more about my own. I have spent centuries building something in an attempt to make the world a better place. I wish to secure my legacy should I ever find myself… unable to access the Pits. And my interest in your academics is only because I consider education of the utmost importance. My life has been defined by a quest for knowledge. It is encouraging to see that my soulmate shares the interest.”

The boy is looking at him, chewing slowly, expression considering. After he swallows the food, he takes a sip of his own tea, frowning at the sweetness only to shrug and chug half the glass.

“Did you love her?” He asks quietly, staring at his own fingers ripping up bits of bread and letting the crumbles fall to the plate.

“Very much,” Ra’s responds evenly. He reaches across and takes Jason’s hands in his own, stilling the nervous movements. “Love is hardly a feeling reserved exclusively for one’s soulmate. It is possible to love many people in many ways. Not all soulmates are romantically involved but their bonds are no less robust or meaningful.”

Jason’s eyes snap back to his face, wide with unconcealed worry. “Do you… are you not… uh, I mean—”

Taking the young man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, Ra’s leans in and silences the boy with a chaste kiss that Jason almost instantly tries to deepen, reaching up to twist his fingers into Ra’s’ robes and pull him closer.

Chuckling, Ra’s pulls away despite the desire to allow Jason to lead them into more physical waters. It’s even harder to resist when the boy’s eyes remain closed, lips parted, already panting gently.

“You needn’t worry, beloved. I would have you in whatever ways you permit.”

He stands and removes the tray from the bed, setting it on the table near the door to be cleared in the night. Then he shucks his clothing, letting every piece drop to the floor around him. Even across the room, he can hear Jason swallow hard; catches the flick of a pink tongue across suddenly dry lips.

Want is pouring off the boy in waves. But hesitation clouds his gaze as Ra’s returns to the bed.

The press of his lips to Jason’s temple earns him a shudder. But the young man, still largely unable to move, rests a hand shyly on Ra’s’ chest and looks him straight in the eye.

“I—I don’t think… I don’t think I’m… ready…” he mutters so low that Ra’s wouldn’t have heard if he’d been even a few more inches away.

He brushes the black curls away from Jason’s embarrassed face. “I know.”

 

* * *

  
  
They sleep together. But they don’t _sleep_ together.

Ra’s tucks him into the covers and follows, wrapping Jason in his arms. It feels warm and comfortable and safe. The older man is strong but gentle and, curled up against him, Jason is almost able to forget the rest of the world exists.

Almost. He dreams of Bruce and Alfred, worried and frantic.

A couple days later his wounds have mostly healed.

“Will they scar?” He asks, as Ra’s dabs more of the green liquid against the fading marks.

“Yes,” the assassin answers grimly, thumbing over a much older mark on his thigh. He doesn’t remember that particular one, he’s had it for longer than his memory goes back, but there are a dozen matching little round burns all over him that he does recall. The one Ra’s had found on his foot is particularly vivid. It still makes him shudder when he thinks about it, the stench of alcohol, the heavy, cruel grip holding him down, the way his father had laughed.

Bruce had worn the same angry look in his eyes that Ra’s did when he discovered them. They were evidence of the things Bruce had already known, more visible than the healed fractures and breaks that only show on x-rays. And even though he _didn’t_ need anyone else, is totally fine on his own and can absolutely take care of himself, that protectiveness makes him feel nice. It’s dangerous, feeling like someone cares. There’s always the chance that they really don’t, that everything will come crashing down again, that they’ll disappoint him.

Jason let his guard down with Bruce and it had been worth the risk. He doesn’t question that Bruce loves him.

Sometimes that certainty frightens him.

But not nearly as much as how easily and quickly Ra’s has worked past his defenses.

“To bad,” he huffs, “They’re ugly. All of them.”

“Your scars tell the story of your life. The hardships you’ve faced, the steps you’ve taken to overcome them, the battles you’ve fought, the price of your life paid in blood. They are a part of you and you are beautiful. But…”

The assassin trails off. Jason knows it’s a trap but he can’t help himself.

“But what?”

Finishing the up with the last of the treatment, Ra’s waits until he’s put everything away before reaching a hand out and helping Jason up from the bed before answering.

“But, I would understand if you wish to rid yourself of them,” he hums, dragging his thumb over another burn mark near Jason’s shoulder, just below his collarbone. “If you ever decide that’s something you want, it would only take a handful of seconds in the Pit to erase them.”

Jason swallows hard. He’d definitely like to wipe away the ones his father put on him, and the new ones from the Joker that would have killed him if his soulmate hadn’t been watching out for him. But... Ra’s is right. The rest are his. They come from the streets of Gotham, from training with Bruce, from sparring with Dick, from being Robin.

“It is not a choice you have to make now. Just know that it is a resource available to you. And only you.”

There’s a soft chirping sound from somewhere within Ra’s’ robes. While the older man fishes for the device, Jason takes the opportunity to stretch his stiff muscles.

“Come. It’s time to address your surprise.”

Something is off, Jason thinks as he follows his soulmate through wide, stone halls and down narrow, wooden stairs. Ra’s’ tone was clipped when he’d spoken and he’s walking gracefully but swiftly.

Until Ra’s pushes open a heavy metal door and Jason can’t help but recoil at the shrill cackling spilling from the Joker’s perma-smile. The clown is bloody and bruised and clearly broken in several places. It creeps Jason out to no end the… monster can still laugh in that condition.

“Wha-What is this?” Jason stammers, backing up a step to run into the solid form of Ra’s standing in the doorway. One arm wraps around his shoulders, grounding him even as he’s nudged further into the room.

“This animal can’t harm you again, beloved,” Ra’s whispers into his ear while pressing something into his hands, “And we can make sure he never hurt another. Never kills another. Never destroys another family. Never menaces the world again.”

Jason looks down to find the long, curved blade of Ra’s sword, golden grip glinting in his palms.

His breath catches in his throat and he can’t tell if the sudden turning in his stomach is dread or anticipation.

“B-batman says… never take a life. Only in self-defense… only if there’s no other option…”

“And how does he define ‘other options’?”

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jason is saved from providing an answer.

“ _Jason!_ ”

He jerks around at the sound of his name, notes of fear and relief tinging the edges of the furious growl.

His own relief floods through him at the sight of Batman.

 

* * *

  
  
God, he’d been so stupid.

Running all over the damn planet, storming through League stronghold after stronghold, washing over the world like the tidal wave of fear and rage he is, without a thought. Without investigating.

Only to find the assassin holed up in the last place he would have expected. The literal last place he looked.

Ra’s al Ghul’s Gotham estate.

He knew he wouldn’t have much time once he arrived. He wore a mask, gassed the halls. Looked all over before making his way to the cellar.

Where he finds his son wrapped in the arms of a madman, holding a sword like he’s not sure what to do with it, while another madman giggles maniacally from where he’s chained to the wall.

Jason is happy to see him, and that immediately calms some of Bruce’s nerves; to find that Jason isn’t lost to him forever.

“Your timing is exceptional, as always, Detective,” Ra’s drawls from Jason’s back. And although he’s worried about his boy being so firmly in the Demon’s clutches, he’s grateful that the assassin now stands between that boy and his would-be murderer.

“Jason, come with me,” Bruce says, ignoring Ra’s and reaching out, “This isn’t the kind of life you want.”

Bruce is shocked when Ra’s releases Jason from his hold. And it’s evident by the way Jason turns and blinks back up at the older man, that he’s surprised too.

“Your choices are your own, beloved,” Ra’s purrs, making Bruce scowl at the endearment Talia uses with him, “You may stay if you wish, or go if you prefer. And I can’t speak for your mentor, but as far as I’m concerned you are not bound for eternity, whichever you choose. If you leave, you may always return. If you stay, you may always leave. There is no rush. We have all the time you need.”

Jason looks back and forth between him and Ra’s, clearly torn and confused. Bruce’s heart breaks, for himself and for Jason, that a mere five days was enough to seed such indecision in his son.

“Jason… please, son… let’s go home.”

The boy’s breathing is ragged, eyes wide and pleading. Begging Bruce to understand, to not make him choose.

Which is why Jason misses the devious smirk Ra’s levels at Bruce over his shoulder.

“I’m more than willing to come to an understanding,” Ra’s says, grinning at the sneer Bruce gives him, “Perhaps we can arrange a schedule that will be to everyone’s benefit.”

“Not a chance in he—”

“B… please?” Jason’s voice is timid and cracking and even given his extreme aversion to the idea, he finds himself desperate to give the boy whatever he wants.

They stare at him and he stares back. Long moments where the only sound is the Joker laughing, eventually joined by the soft padding of stealthy assassins. Without turning, Bruce can feel Ra’s’ men block the exits.

“If you come home with me now, we’ll work something out,” he grinds out finally, against his better judgement and immediately letting the back of his mind get started on trying to figure out how to get out of it.

“Promise?”

Bruce feels his own face fall into something softer at hopeful glint in brilliant blue eyes. Jason still looks at him like he hung the moon.

“I promise.”

Jason takes a step towards him then turns to glance back at Ra’s who gives him a single nod of encouragement. Instantly Bruce’s blood boils.

When Jason safely back at his side, with his own gauntleted hand resting protectively on the boy’s shoulder, Bruce nods to the Joker.

“He’s coming with me too.”

Even though he’s focused on the Demon’s Head, he doesn’t miss the way Jason tenses in his arms.

“Oh I don’t think so, Detective,” Ra’s grins. “This beast will not be leaving this compound. Certainly not to return to a sub-par facility from which he has proven adept at escaping.”

Baring his teeth, Bruce moves with the intent to _take_ the Joker. He’s stopped only by the tight squeeze of Jason’s hands in his own.

“I don’t want to take him with us… Please B, can we just… can we just go?”

He almost argues. But the brief flash of fear that flicks across Jason’s eyes when he glance at the clown is enough to quell the impulse.

“I’ll return for him later. He better be alive,” he growls at Ra’s as he turns, leading Jason out.

“Oh I think you know a return trip will be a waste of your time, Bruce,” Ra’s rumbles dangerously, “Things that try to take my family are not allowed a second attempt.”

It takes every ounce of Bruce’s willpower to keep walking. With Jason here and Ra’s’ manipulations fresh in his mind, this is not the time to fight.

But the lingering threat in the Demon’s words does not escape his notice.


End file.
